


Familiar Face

by Hadontini



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, F/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Suggestive Themes, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadontini/pseuds/Hadontini
Summary: It’s the 70′s, and Hydra takes the risk of letting their infamous silent and deadly assassin be a little more vocal then they’re used too. They figure, hey, it’s the cold war, a little espionage might be just the thing they need. Or so they thought. When a suspiciously familiar face makes their presence known to The Winter Soldier, the mission takes a turn out of control.





	

Her face felt familiar, that was the first major red flag of the night. Surrounding by a sea of colour and bad dancing, The Soldier’s eyes zeroed in on one woman in the middle, dancing and moving to the beat. He had seen her before. And not in the sense that he usually felt, this wasn’t previous memories invading on present day, no this was he actually has seen her before. Either on this mission or previous ones.

Hydra knew they were taking a risk keeping him out and active for so long, but the times called for an agent which could blend in, and wiping his memories as they have always after every mission ran the risk of erasing a personality which could integrate itself into a crowd. Someone with the skill of an assassin, but the charm of a spy.

That’s, he supposed, how he ended up in this club. This was The Soldier’s third mission within the past year. A year of being out, a year of remembering. He wouldn’t dare indicate to Hydra that he was starting to remember flashes and brief aspects his life. They’d deactivate him so far it’d make his head spin. No, it was safer to feign ignorance.

Breaking him from concentration, the stench of a strong cologne, mixed with the natural odor of sweat and sex pooled into his nose from his left. The Soldier’s head craned to the side, peeking a glance to find his target. In his deep thought, the target must have moved from his spot on the dance floor to nearly right against the Soldier’s hip, waving his hand erratically to flag down the hustling bartender.

The Soldier remained stoic. Watch and observe, as he was trained. The bartender made his way over, and the target slammed his hand down onto the table in a dramatic fashion. “Some more Carlsberg, if you will, brother!”

With a nod the bartender nodded, and began his work, as the target struggled to come up with any cash from the sweaty disaster that was his pants. Reaching into his own jacket pocket, The Soldier pulled his wallet out and tossed more than enough cash onto the table to his left. “This one’s on me.”

The man shook his head, “Nah nah, brother I can’t let you do that,” The Soldier’s eyebrow quirked up. “Not unless you have one yourself.” The man’s hand reached over and gave a pat on his shoulder, obviously too drunk to notice his hand was patting a shoulder much too solid and hard to be flesh. With a chuckle, The Soldier pulled out more cash.

“Make it, these two are on me.” Two glasses presented themselves in front of the pair within mere moments, as the bartender returned to the busier end of the counter. Both arms reached to grab their respective glasses, and the target turned, a kind of wispy smile plastered all over his face.

“Did me a real favour, wasn’t sure I was gonna have enough on me for that one!” His voice raised despite their close proximity, as if he wasn’t aware of how well he could be heard.

“Least I could do.” A laugh erupted from him, unwarranted and obnoxious. His arm moved to hold his glass out to the Soldier, and he returned it. The target dived head first into his drink, while The Soldier watched him closely, taking nothing more than a mere sip before placing it down in front of him. The target downed damn near half the glass, a third of which finding a home in his moustache rather than his mouth, before slamming it in front of him, with a belch and a satisfied, “Ahh”.

Eyeing the man up, he could tell the guy was itching to get back on the dance floor, back to her. The one The Soldier found so confoundingly familiar. But he forced himself not to look back at her. Who she was wasn’t was important right now. Keeping the target here and drunkenly chatty, was.

“You got some real moves out there, you know?” Lie. His moves were sloppy and drunk, yet somehow captured the attention of the many women he was with. This wasn’t a decade the Soldier particularly related to.

“You know, brother, once you get going, the ladies love it. Women love a piece of me, all Marlboro man you know?” A real obnoxious laugh came out of him, his hand running over his chest, from the way too much hair peaking out from the top of his quite loud and tight fitting shirt, to the even louder belt buckle over his pants.

“Can’t say I do, not what you would call a ladies man.” The Soldier gestured to himself, while his outfit fit the bill, not much else did. The lack of facial hair, hair without real style to it that was in tune with the times. Not to mention always wearing long sleeves paired with a glove over his left hand, and only his left hand gave many questions to women looking to undress him rather than anything else.

“No worries, brother, you’ll get with it eventually. Plus, it’s all about age. Women like them,” his hand moved out to survey the crowd, “they love an experienced man. Makes ‘em feel treated well, you know?” A wink graced his face and another vaguely sloppy sip was taken from his drink.

The Soldier forced a relatable chuckle, taking a much more clean sip of his own. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The conversation needed to keep moving along. Keep him drunk and chatty and just maybe he can let a hint slip of what he needed. As long as he knew the target was willing to give even some information, that would be all the go ahead the Soldier needed to move to the next phase of the night, and by proxy, the mission.

“So tell me, what brings a man like you out here on a Wednesday night?” The Soldier turned his head, hair tossing itself to the side with his body as he adjusted his chair, leaning in close.

“Celebration, dude. Nothing like surrounding myself with some foxy looking women to celebrate, right eh?” Slamming his hand into the Soldier’s right arm with a cheeky grin.

“What are you celebrating?”

“Breakthrough in my company.” Another quirk of his eyes, and the man nodded, hand gesturing in the air before returning back to the table, “I work for a research branch of a pharmaceutical company. Making breakthroughs in drugs any and every day!” Another obnoxious laugh.

A smirk overcame his face, this was more like it. “Yeah? What are you guys working on over there?” The man nodded his head back and forth, his hand waving in a movement similar to a windshield wiper, seemingly more unwilling to talk about it all of the sudden. “Oh come on, a man buys you a lager and you can’t share what’s got him so pumped in the first place?”

“Alright, alright.” A sip of his drink, and his hand gestured for him to come in close to his face. The stench of him was all the more pungent, how the women he was dancing with could stand it was beyond him. “We dug up these old records from the 50’s or some shit, some experimental college type shit and we figured we’d try it out. Government stuff, ya know, and well,” A belch followed by an even sloppier sip of his drink. “We made some discoveries that they missed back then. Fuck, I mean the 50’s didn’t have shit compared to what we found ou-”

All of the sudden The Soldier’s attention begun to drift to an approaching figure from the crowd. The familiar face begun to approach, a sway of the hips, the cut on the black dress deeper than it was previously on the dance floor. The Soldier’s face looked at her impassive with an air of suspicion leaking through in his eyes.

Her hand gingerly reached down on the targets shoulder, opposite of her, his words cut off as he looked up, a smitten look gracing his sweating features. She leaned down, cleavage close to his face, eyes locking with the Soldier’s for a brief moment with a look covered in sin before directing themselves to speaking something he couldn’t hear into the man’s ear.

A smile of real perversion overcame him, before a goofy giggle came out of him. “Whatever you say.” His voice greasy and putting emphasis on each syllable. A slap of her ass and his hand reached for his lager. “Well brother,” he gulped down the rest of the lager, “it was great talking to you, but nature calls.”

He glanced pointedly back at the retreating figure walking into the crowd towards the back door, then looked back. “If you uh, know what I mean.” And with a wink and a not so subtle hand grazing the front of his pants, he stood up, a sway about him, before turning and walking away with a swagger.

The impassive yet inherently charming look on the Soldier’s face fell to his more serious nature. Not good. Shoving his own drink to the side he stood up, a hand running through his hair and adjusting the collar he begun to move through the crowd.

The further the pair walked, the more it became increasingly difficult to follow. His hands had to move and push past multiple dancers, as he watched them leave out the door. Following close by he went through the door himself and found the cool air of the night hit him.

The music muffled itself as the door closed, cars rushing by, and the high pitched giggles of nearby couples beside the doors. Not here. The only direction he could go was to the street.

Besides the passing cars, no one anywhere near the appearances of either the target or the familiar women was in sight. How in the hell did this happen? He didn’t let targets just wander off like this, where could they have gone so quickly? Since when did he lose targets so easily like some damn rookie?

As The Soldier immediately began to reformulate a new plan in his head, all he could let out was a gentle toned, but harsh word.

“Fuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> I figured I'd explore the idea of the Winter Soldier on missions during the Cold War in the 70's, it might be considered slightly au for whatever the mcu thinks as canon for Bucky in the 70's, but nothing in this fic interferes with how the movies play out. First few chapters will be from his perspective, but from then on it will switch to be from the reader's pov.


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